


gold pt. ii

by anoetic



Series: all that tenderness and blood. [8]
Category: Professional Wrestling, Tokio Hotel, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Crossover Pairings, M/M, Rare Pairings, Stream of Consciousness, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Triple Drabble, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 04:26:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15210959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoetic/pseuds/anoetic
Summary: a soft little collection of lovely moments in this precious wonder.





	gold pt. ii

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldsteelrail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldsteelrail/gifts).



> i love writing about these two...... as you can obviously tell lol..... it's been years since i've enjoyed writing this much. ^ _ ^
> 
> comments & kudos are appreciated!

love pt. i, being drunk for it--

The night Bill sees Roman for the very first time, how he focused on getting wasted to the gods instead of on how fucking gorgeous that guy is, wondering what his name is, needing to know it, needing him to know Bill’s. How he nearly sprints to the other side of the building towards Tom, his heart thudding to the beat of the music, pushing and shoving past millions of bodies and butterflies to hide himself from his eyes. How he babbles woefully into Tom’s shoulder about that guy, how he asked a girlfriend to give him Bill’s instagram, how absolutely embarrassed he feels about it all, how above the moon in love he feels right now.

(He doesn’t let that last one slip, he isn’t that far gone yet.)

Tom can barely follow what his brother is saying, but it’s all probably true anyway he knows, that twin thing coming about them again. He trusts his brother’s rambling and tells him that it’s time they head home and Bill nods and nods, holding tight to Tom’s arm as he stumbles to his feet, high heels scratching at the floor. The night is fresh with scandal and Bill can’t stop checking his phone once Tom buckles him into the car. He learns that his girlfriend had sent him the guy’s instagram.

 _“i told him to send you a friend request,”_  she messaged him and Bill wishes he drank a little more, his nerves twisting. He’s got to be wasted for good things, for things that seem too good to be true. He scours through the massive list of requests he has and he sees one that matters and chooses not to accept it, not until tomorrow. He determines, through this blistering, blurry haze that this one, this one possibly maybe good thing, he wants to be sober for. They’re already on the highway home and Bill declares that he’s in love as he thumbs through the guy’s instagram, fuck fuck fuck he’s stunning and Tom tells Bill that he knows, dutifully going along with his brother’s love drunk rambling.

“I mean, fuck I’m in fucking  _love,_  Tomi,” Bill wearily sighs as he slinks back into his seat, laying the back of his hand against his forehead in anguish. He feels warm saying it again, like it could be something that’s true, like it already is and Tom agrees with him again, thinking his brother’s behavior is obnoxious but endearing, and he finds himself smiling when Bill exclaims with how fucking beautiful this guy is like holy shit _tom look at him_. Bill shoots an arm out, holding his phone in his hand, beaming with infatuation. “I’m driving, Billa,” explains Tom as if he were speaking to an impatient child and Bill snorts, bringing his phone back into his lap. He’s quiet for a few seconds before he starts again. “He’s driving too in this picture,” he says, his voice breaking into laughter and that makes Tom laugh, too.

They banter back and forth for the rest of the ride home, Bill must have said a hundred times that he was in love, butterflies wild and everywhere. When they get back to the house Tom helps his brother into his bed, yanking off those too high heels and placing them at the foot of the bed. Bill groans and throws his hands up into the air as if he were reaching for something, for someone, gurgling out that he’s in  _fucking love_ ,  _fuck!_  and Tom acknowledges him once more, raising the blankets up and over Bill’s body, his eyes meeting Bill’s in understanding.

“I know,” he says.

 

love pt. ii, friend request accepted--

The morning after Bill doesn’t mind the bone throbbing headache of a hangover, he’s spent the early hours messaging Roman, back and forth back and forth they go, effortlessly, easily, their conversation without break or stumble, flowing gently between the two of them. Bill likes the formality in his texts, likes his sense of humor, likes that already he’s sent Bill a sleepy selfie of him in bed in warm, sunny Florida and Bill hurriedly shoots back one of his own, him in his bed with blond hair all a tired tussle, honey brown eyes squinting into the camera, bundles of blankets tugged up to his nose.

Is this flirting?

Bill isn’t sure, he hasn’t played this game in a while, but he doesn’t care. They get along well enough and Bill learns a bit about what Roman does and Roman learns a bit about what Bill does, about how he and Tom ended up here in glitzy, gutsy Los Angeles. Bill decides that he loves knowing him, loves talking to him and that he wants to keep this, this possibly maybe good thing.

 

love pt. iii, what took you so long?--

Bill would definitely be the one to pop the question. He would be so nervous and love red in the face as infatuation tends to make us be. It’s over skype unfortunately, distance working against them again and love unwilling to wait a second longer, too impatient and too sweet. He has to have a little drink first, a shot of bravery and Rosé to wash the butterflies away.

He doesn’t want to be tongue tied for this, he wants this to be perfect, well, as perfect as perfect can get in a lush Berlin hotel room in the middle of the evening being on camera with the one you love who is miles away on the other side of the world. The circumstance doesn’t lessen the romance of the moment. In a way they both know this would happen sooner or later, they just didn’t know who would make the first move.

Roman is a little surprised with himself for not being the one to say it this time, he’s used to making the first move. He’s surprised with Bill, too and oddly, also impressed. He doesn’t expect him to ask first nor does he expect to see that fine little glass of Rosé in Bill’s hand.

(He still has a bit to learn about his boy and his nervous habits.)

Of course he says _“yes”_ when Bill asks him and of course Bill flusters and grins ear to ear in blissful, blushing reply, feeling divine and sweeter than honey.

Bill doesn’t wait for permission to barge himself into Tom’s hotel room to tell him the good news, practically bouncing on the tips of his toes in joy. “We’re dating!” he would squeal and Tom looks up from his laptop brow scrunched up in confusion as he jolts upright in the bed.

“What?”

“He and I are dating!” Bill repeats, jumping up in excitement, wishing he could sing it to the heavens, to the bugs and the streets and the night and the stars, but he settles for Tom and his momentary bewilderment before it softens into something kinder– relief, his lips curving warm in a thankful smile.

Bill is so happy, so sweet in love he can’t stay still, his heart seeping with sun.


End file.
